Page 103 of Pucking Bad Boys

I reassure my brothers. “Don’t worry. It takes the guys a minute to shower and get changed out of their uniforms. You ok, Theo?”

My seventeen-year-old brother looks nervous as he keeps his eyes on the hallway the team is going to come out .

“He’s fine.” Dad squeezes his shoulder. “We aren’t here just to see Tucker. Coach Harrison was at Theo’s game last night, and we wanted to say hi.”

Theo plays defense for our high school hockey team, and he’s wanted to be a Cove Knight since he learned how to skate.

“If the coach was at your game, it’s a good sign.” I reassure him.

But rather than focusing on the conversation at hand, Theo is looking at me. Or, to be more specific, at my jersey.

“How come you aren’t wearing Tucker’s jersey?” he asks.

Fuck. Heat rises to my face. “That’s what girlfriends do. So that would be up to Taryn.”

My brother doesn’t look convinced. “That’s jersey number nineteen. The team captain’s.”

Theo and Mom are the only ones who follow me on social media. Dad doesn’t bother with this “modern day bullshit,” and Terry and Tommy, at eleven and nine, are too young to have an account.

If Theo is asking that question, it’s probably because he noticed my new status. The suspicion in his eyes confirms that he’s definitely seen it.

“But you’re his sister.” Terry chimes in, totally oblivious to what Theo has already figured out. “You can still wear it.”

“That’s right. Girlfriends or puck bunnies wear a player’s jersey.” Dad agrees. “You don’t want Shayba to get the wrong idea if he sees you in his jersey. Case in point, he kept blowing kisses to someone every time he scored a goal tonight. You must have seen him; it was right by your section.”

Oblivious. That’s my dad on any given day. He only sees what he wants to see. Of course, he thought Macklin was blowing kisses at someone else. He still sees me as his little girl, and God forbid that I could have a boyfriend. It doesn’t matter that I’m of legal drinking age.

He’s even worse than Tucker.

By now I’m used to the overprotective treatment I get from the men in my family, but for some reason tonight Dad’s notion that Macklin couldn’t possibly be with me stings too much.

I open my mouth to ask him who he thinks Macklin was waving at, but right in that moment, a bunch of players come out of the locker room.

Macklin is ahead of everyone, followed by Tucker, Vaughn, and Becker.

“Hey baby.”

In the blink of an eye, his arm is wrapped around my shoulders and his lips are on mine.

I can’t help but melt against Macklin’s soft lips, but the hairs at the back of my neck prickle with the awareness that my dad and my brothers are staring at me. Their shocked gasps filter through my lust-induced haze.

“Daddy,” Tommy squeals. “Talia is making out with Macklin Shayba.”

Macklin breaks the kiss just in time to hear Terry’s equally shocked words.

“And that’s the guy she was making out with that night when she came home late from work. Fu-fudge,” he corrects himself just in the nick of time. “That’s Becker Shayba.”

“Princess,” Dad’s shock would be funny if I didn’t know that he’s the one who gave Tucker the idea that I was this precious, fragile creature that needed protecting from the opposite sex. “Why are you making out with the Shayba brothers? And Tucker, I thought you were supposed to keep an eye on your baby sister.”

Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

This. This attitude is exactly why my dating life has been nonexistent since I can remember.

To my surprise, Tucker comes to my aid. “It’s fine, Dad. Mack and Talia are a thing, and they have my blessing.” He says the last part with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s serious. Isn’t it, Shayba?”

“Very serious.” Macklin says without missing a beat. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

God, that’s embarrassing. I hope Dad’s intense attitude won’t scare Macklin out of our deal. I’m not ready for it to be over.